Sherlock: The Silent Sister
by katkin
Summary: When Sherlock takes on a case involving a woman who won't admit to witnessing a murder, can Sherlock prove another woman's innocence, or will he end up losing people he cares about along the way?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello, and thanks for clicking. I haven't written for a long while, and I've only ever written Harry Potter before, so this is something new for me. This is a brief chapter, just for me to get into the Sherlock style. This show has taken over my life since it first aired, and I want to do it justice. I'm a big fan of the humor in this show, and the friendship between Sherlock and John. I'm going to work on my plot before posting any more, but I wanted to get people's opinions so I posted this short first chapter. Please review and let me know what you think. K.

* * *

It was always such a bag of mixed emotions, John always thought, to have a visit from Lestrade. As he climbed the stairs in 221b Baker Street, John heard the unmistakeable tones of the Detective Inspector. That often meant several things:

1. That the DI needed Sherlock's help.

2. That Sherlock was getting a bollocking, because the DI didn't want his help.

And possibly the most crucial but regrettable factor...

3. That somebody had been murdered.

John sighed wearily. It was a Friday evening, and although he hadn't yet made any plans, sometimes it was nice to not have any plans at all, especially ones which involved chasing down piss-stained alleys and getting drenched in the rain, looking for someone who could potentially slit his throat. But enough about _last_ Friday night...

His reluctance began to bubble down, replaced by the sudden urge to run into the sitting room and bellow "What ho! A foe?" Of course, maybe not to that extreme, but John couldn't help himself. He craved the unpredictability that followed Sherlock Holmes.

The floorboards creaked under his feet as he reached the top of the stairs and entered the sitting room. Both men fell silent, and turned to regard him as he stood there in the door way. The DI then continued his conversation in low tones. John snorted in indignation.

"Don't mind me, I just live here," he muttered under his breath as he removed his jacket and headed for the kitchen to pop the kettle on.

John stood there a moment, watching the water boil. The water churned frantically, then the kettle clicked and the water became gradually still. There came a cough from behind him and he jumped.

"Jesus!"

"You were somewhere else," remarked his flatmate.

"Yeah, I've been to work."

"No, I meant just then. What were you thinking?"

Sherlock Holmes sat himself down on a wooden chair next to his flatmate. John rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. What had he been thinking? It was a rare occasion for Sherlock to be asking that question, but John couldn't for the life of him recall what it was. He cleared his throat.

"Uh...just that it's a Friday night, and I have no idea what it will bring...and I kind of like that." He grinned at Sherlock who breathed a laugh.

"You're the oddest man I've ever met, John."

"Coming from Sherlock Holmes, I'll take that as a compliment."

John rose to make two mugs of coffee, and then sat himself back down. The pair sat there in a comfortable silence for a while.

"What did he want?" John eventually asked.

"Hmm? Lestrade? Oh, he's having difficulty with a case, wanted to pick my brain. It could turn out to be nothing."

John studied his friend's face, the way his eyes flickered as he thought words he wasn't permitting himself to say.

"Or it _could_ turn out to be something?" John prompted. Sherlock smiled to his friend, and chinked his mug against his.

"In which case, John, I'll be there."


	2. Chapter 2

Earlier that night...

The light was beginning to fade. A young woman ran at a pace, stifling a sob. Although it was not yet fully dark, the air became damp and the visibility was poor. The woman looked behind her, panic filling her lungs at the very thought of being followed. The side of her face throbbed, and she brought a hand up to it instinctively. Bruising had begun to form around her left eye, the cheek bone felt tender under her fingertips. She never thought she'd be brave enough to do it. To run. To leave him. Her legs had finally done what her head had told her, regardless of what her heart had wanted. But she wasn't safe yet.

The woman slowed her pace but continued to walk at speed, her breathing hitched with emotion. The sound of gravel crunching under her feet filled her ears, and the air became eerily still. She began to feel a lump of anxiety form in her throat. Suddenly, she heard voices across the canal, and faltered. The sound of a heated argument frightened her and she instinctively ducked for cover behind a rubbish bin. Her eyes wide in panic, she began to watch the scene unfold in front of her. A man in dark clothing began to push another man, hard in the chest.

"I can't do this. You can't ask this of me. What about Michael? There must be another way!" one of the men pleaded with the other.

"You promised me, you promised me!" he was shouting. "Son of a bitch."

"Please," a voice begged, the man's fear reaching the woman's ears.

"You said you'd help me. You promised me, and now you're letting me down. I needed you to help me. I've never asked anything of you before."

The men began to tussle, and then one pushed the other way. Suddenly, the taller man extended his arm out shakily.

"Oh!" the hidden woman breathed as she recognised the shape of a hand gun. The woman began to remove her phone from her pocket with shaking hands. Perhaps she should call the police? Or make a run for it? Even if she wanted to do either of these things her feet felt like lead and she was frozen to the spot in panic. Suddenly, she heard a noise that made her feel sick; the voice of a child.

"Dad, please. Dad let's just go. You don't have to do this. Please, Dad let's just go home."

"Get back in the car, Michael!" came a frantic response.

From the other side of the canal she saw a child dart in between the two men, pleading with one of them. Her phone felt heavy in her hands and she suddenly became aware of it again. Without consciously knowing what she was doing, the woman switched on the camera and took a photo of what she was witnessing. Her hands shook so badly that she had to take another shot. Her limbs moved heavily, in slow motion, like she wasn't in control of herself. She knew that she should run, but she was frightened she would be spotted.

Suddenly, a crack went into the air, echoing around the deserted buildings and sending stray pigeons flying. The woman dropped her phone in fright, and staggered back.

"No! Dad! What have you done?" screamed the child, who was then hauled onto the shoulder of the man, and carried off down the path. A car door could be heard, slamming in the distance, and an engine started up. The woman stood in horror for a moment, struggling to come to terms with what she saw. A body lay slumped on the gravel. Silence fell around her. She scrambled for her phone on the floor and clumsily dialled three numbers.

"Police please," she said shakily into the handset. Her mind began to race and twist the truth, as a lie tumbled from her lips. "I...I've found a body."

A/N: Cue theme tune. Lol. If you're curious about this then please review. I'm probably as curious as you are. I've got a few ideas for where to take this, and your feedback will be very useful. Thanks.

K.


	3. Chapter 3

**Daily Mail**

Saturday 2nd October 2010

Body found by jogger.

POLICE were called to Regent's Canal, at 5:43pm on Friday evening, a quarter of a mile from Hampstead Road Lock, where a woman had reported finding a male body. The woman, who cannot be named, claimed she found the yet-to-be-identified body while out jogging on the opposite bank. The victim had been shot, at point blank range in the forehead. The woman quoted "I just saw a lot of blood, and I knew the man was dead as soon as I saw him." There were no known witnesses at the scene. Detective Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard, advised people to be cautious while the investigations took place, and urged anyone who had been in the area at that time to come forward.


End file.
